


Darkness and Light

by ncdover1285



Series: Darkness and Light [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:55:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24649843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ncdover1285/pseuds/ncdover1285
Summary: Sam and Dean are cursed and they are sent on separate journeys to figure out how to break the curse. Finding out that they may just get exactly what they have been longing for is definitely a bonus.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: Darkness and Light [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023613
Comments: 5
Kudos: 147
Collections: Wincest Reverse Bang





	Darkness and Light

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Wincest Reverse Bang. I want to thank shaelynn88 for the amazing art that inspired it, and DWImpala67 for being an awesome beta! I also want to thank everyone that takes the time to read this.  
> Check out the art master post here: https://shealynn88.tumblr.com/post/620733817446137856

The book was old, they hadn’t thought anything about it when the witch threw it and Dean caught it. They were used to handling old books all the time. It was usually the simpler things that you had to watch out for when dealing with cursed objects. Books are usually what you use to reverse the curse after having handled one of these cursed objects.The witches were just horrible, turning one of Sam’s favorite things against them. It just wasn’t right.

The smoke began to clear and Sam’s first thought was of Dean. His fingers had just touched the book when the explosion, there really was no other word for it, occurred. Lunging across the room, he stopped in his tracks when he saw the large, white, fluffy wings protruding from his brothers back. He reached down to toss the book away from his brother, thinking that whatever magic was attached to it had already been spent. He was so wrong.

There was another crack and yet another round of smoke and Sam found himself on the opposite wall again. This time it was Dean who came running. He had a look of wonder on his face as Sam looked up at him. “Don’t tell me. Wings?” Sam asked as he pressed his hand to the wall to keep his balance. Dean nodded, and seemed to notice something. He jerked back sending white feathers all around the room.

Sam reached out to stop the spinning and a black appendage followed his hand. He stopped short of grabbing his brother's arm and turned to look at his own wings. He was expecting the same white abundance of fluff that Dean was sporting, but was surprised to find that he had rather large black leathery wings that extended down to the ground when he stood at his full height.

“Woah!” Dean was once again watching Sam as he examined his new appendages.

“I don’t know what is so amazing, Dean. You have wings too. Yours are just of the white and fluffy variety,” Sam remarked.

Dean brought one around between them and began examining it again. “I wonder why they are different. We both touched the same thing.”

Sam had a pained look on his face which Dean knew meant that he was coming to some bad conclusions. The problem, though, was that Dean had already had similar thoughts, so he kept quiet.

“We need to look in the book and see what it says,” was Sam’s only response to the look Dean shot his direction.

“I’ll do it Sam. Who knows what will happen when we touch the book again. Ha, I’ll probably end up with a halo next,” Dean said, trying to lighten up the mood.

Dean picked the book up from the floor where Sam had thrown it after the second explosion. Nothing happened, so Dean started looking through the book as Sam watched over his shoulder occasionally having to dodge Dean’s wing as it twitched with agitation. Sam had had enough, “Okay man, share what you’re seeing before your wing knocks me out.” Dean turned to look at Sam over his shoulder, incredulously.

“Fine man, here. You aren’t going to like it though.” The last words were said as Dean pushed the book towards his brother. Sam began reading what Dean had opened the book to, aloud. “Angels and Demons, that seems appropriate,” Sam said as he once again looked between his brother's fluffy wings and his leathery one. “I wonder how it chose who got what wings? Was it simply because you touched the book first that you got the Angel wings, or was it something else?” Sam was clearly hoping that it was simply because Dean had touched the book first. He wasn’t going to voice that, but he didn’t have to. Dean was just as adept at reading him as he was at reading Dean.

“Read on baby brother, read on.” Dean pointed to a section a little lower down the page.

_“Who you are is what you see,_

_How you feel so shall it be._

_Touched by one,_

_you’ll surely soar,_

_As you stare at heaven's door._

_Touched by two, you’ll surely fall,_

_Don’t get caught behind the devil’s wall._

_To become as you were before,_

_Find the one your soul longs for._

_Until you find your lost mate,_

_Around the others you will skate.”_

“What the hell? Was this witch a poet?” Dean asked intrigued.

“No Dean, that sounds like a spell if I ever heard one.”

Dean glared at the book and then back to his brother’s obviously demonic wings. “Well what the hell does it mean then genius? Because it doesn’t sound very good to me. Devils wall, around the others you will skate? Sounds kind of crazy to me.”

"Doesn’t matter right now,” Sam said as they heard a noise out back of the cabin that they had confronted the witch in, “sounds like we have company and I don’t know about you, but I’m not exactly on top of my game with these things throwing off my balance.”

Dean glanced at the back door where they could hear footsteps coming from the other side. “Yeah, I don’t want to take a chance with it. Let’s get out of here.” They took off out the front door, through the thick woods on the other side to make their way down the mountain to a logging road where Baby sat waiting on them.

“Never thought that I would have so much trouble fitting in my baby. Damn it Sammy, we have to get rid of these things. Did you find anything else?” Dean grumbled.

Fitting two Winchesters into the impala had never been as difficult as it had been on the way back to the bunker. When they stopped for gas, Sam had pretended that they were coming from a convention and that it was cosplay. The attendant seemed to have eaten it right up and they were able to be on their way again before anyone called the National Inquirer.

“Yeah well, I’m just glad that the gas station attendant seemed to favor cosplay herself. That could have been another sticky situation. If Charlie hadn’t gone on and on about it I probably never would have thought of it.” Sam stopped speaking, staring at his beautiful brother. It was something that he tried to hide since he had figured out that it wasn't something normal brothers did.

This time however, he had an excuse. Dean was trying to pull off his flannels. Neither of them had thought anything about how dressing, or in this case undressing, would be made more difficult by their new additions. “Uh, Dean, do you need some help?”

The Winchester in question had his arms bent at an odd angle trying to pull it over the wings, while the wings were fluttering and flapping and making it impossible to remove the shirt.

“I mean, we could cut them off, but I have a feeling we are going to have these a while and we are not going to want to cut all our clothing up,” he added.

Dean stopped trying to take his own shirt off, and turned to Sam. “I’m getting rid of these things as fast as we can. I’m not cutting up anything.” To which Sam just raised an eyebrow and stepped closer to his brother to help him make his way out of his layers.

Dean stopped him though. His hands weren’t as shaky as he thought they would be as he reached towards Sam’s shirt. “You just have the one. Let me get yours first, then you can help with mine.” Sam complied with his brother’s request and knelt down. Dean lifted the shirt over his head. It was still caught in the wings, but the wings had managed to rip his shirt quite a bit while springing from his back. “Not sure how much of this one I can salvage, but I’m trying.”

The shirt, as it turns out, could not be saved and Sam was probably going to be stuck going shirtless until this was straightened out, not that Dean was complaining about that. Well, he was, but only because that was what was expected.

“Your turn Dean. Hopefully we can save yours, it doesn’t seem as ripped. I guess maybe fluffy isn’t such a bad thing after all.” Dean grumbled but took his place on his knees in front of Sam. Sam chuckled as he distinctly heard something that sounded like “Not a word, Sammy.”

The outer layers seemed to make it out with minimal damage, but there was no hope for Dean’s tee shirt either. Sam brushed his fingers over the feathers protruding from his brother’s shoulder blades, causing Dean to shiver. He placed his hands on Dean’s shoulders the way that he hadn’t in a while, since he was being told all the time that they were just too close for brothers. If he were being honest, he’s missed the casual touches that they used to share.

Dean was having trouble reminding himself why he didn’t just brush his brother’s arm any more. He was also having trouble keeping his tight denim issue hidden, so that brought him back to the present. “Alright Sammy,” he said as he stood and took a step away from his brother. “We need to get some sleep and try to figure this crap out. I personally don’t want to walk around as a feather duster forever.”

Sam has always been a researcher, and when sleep wouldn’t come to him he went back to the source of their problem, the dusty looking old book the witch had thrown at Dean. He spent hours comparing the words that were written in the spell and the many books that were in the Men Of Letters library. He couldn’t find any reference to the book at all. This led him to believe that it was a personal spell book, if not written by the witch herself, then one that had been passed down her lineage and the Men of Letters had no knowledge of it.

He kept coming back to the passage itself. ‘Who you are is what you see, How you feel so shall it be.’ “Does that mean that Dean’s an Angel and I’m a Demon?” He wondered out loud to the empty room. It always seems that bad things are attracted to Sam, he can’t help but think that means he is something bad himself. But then he reads on, ‘Touched by one you’ll surely soar, As you stare at heaven's door. Touched by two you’ll surely fall, Don’t get caught behind the devil’s wall.’ Surely that means that no matter who touched it first they would have had the Angel wings and second would have Demon wings. This thought alone was giving him a headache and he needed a drink.

Dean wasn’t faring much better in his room. He had taken a picture of the text and was searching online for more information. He wasn’t as focused on what caused each brother to have different types of wings, but more so on how to break the spell. ‘To become as you were before, Find the one your soul longs for. Until you find your lost mate, Around the others you will skate.’ He was getting a sinking feeling that they would never be able to get rid of the wings.

Since when do Winchesters find the one their soul longs for? Every time one of them had been in love the object of their affection had been killed. Hunting wasn’t a productive life for mates.

There’s only ever been one person that Dean’s ever wanted who was still alive and that was Sam. And he knew that was just never going to happen. He would lose him forever if he told his brother what he was thinking. He’d just have to find another way. “I wonder what it means by around the others you will skate?” Talking to himself wasn’t going to do him any good. He needed a drink.

The brothers bumped into each other in the den. They both seemed to have the same idea. Alcohol always was the Winchester way to sort the things out when things were too rough to deal with, alone. It is the Hunter's Helper after all, and it did get that name for a reason.

“Can’t sleep?” Sam asked just because he had to say something. He was feeling really low because he was still concerned with the implications of the Demon wings and what they would mean for him.

“Nah, too worried about how we’re going to get rid of these things.” Dean emphasized his statement by fluttering his wings. They seemed to be drawn to his brother, so he snapped them back behind himself. He was getting better about controlling them. He didn’t want a repeat of earlier when his agitation was made more visible by the appendages.

Awkwardness was a real thing in the bunker right now. The boys avoided each other most of the time.

It was the second day after they had been cursed that someone showed up in the bunker. No, they didn’t knock on the door but were let in by one of the brothers. They just showed up in the map room almost causing Sam to fall out of his chair. “Nice wings there batman.” That was the first thing they said to Sam. He responded by pulling the demon blade. “I wouldn’t do that. I’m supposed to show you our ways, isn’t that what the old witch said?” Sam looked from the book that was closed on the table back to the person, or rather, demon that was talking to him.

“I have to let Dean know what’s going on.” Sam stood to do just that, but was cut off by the demon stepping in front of him.

“I wouldn’t. The feathery bag of dicks that’s in there with him isn’t one that would welcome someone of our disposition. They would rather smite first and ask questions never. Leave him a note or something if you like, but I have a feeling he’s getting harp lessons himself today.” The demon said.

Sam still left a note for Dean. He had ran off enough when he was younger to know that Dean wouldn’t accept anything less. He probably wouldn’t even accept that Sam had only left a note, but he figured it was better than getting himself killed just to let his brother know that he was trying to find a way to get rid of these stupid wings.

Dean felt someone behind him, pulling his gun was just a reflex by this age. You didn’t get to live for long as a hunter without some major instincts. The person that was by the door a moment before disappeared suddenly and reappeared in the other corner of the room by the time Dean turned. “That would make this extremely difficult and would do you absolutely no good. Guns do not work on me, but they are rather loud and you wouldn’t be able to hear what I have to tell you.” Dean spun again, and once again the man was gone. The next thing Dean knew the gun was being pulled off from his hand. “What are you?” Dean asked growlingly.

“My name is Castiel and I’m an Angel of the Lord.” The man with a deep voice said.

“Okay Casteel, What do you want?” Dean has always been defensive when he was worried. That hasn’t changed.

“I believe that you are in need of assistance. You do know that you are in possession of a pair of Angel wings, and a small amount of grace, do you not?” The deep voice said.

Dean fluttered his wings a bit, he still couldn’t hide his agitation very well. “I know that I have the wings.” Dean rolled his eyes in exasperation. “ Huh, the book did say something about spending time with the others. Does that mean you? Crap, does that mean Sammy is going to be spending time with demons?” Dean's wings started fluttering fast which was a sign of his worry vibrating through his body at the idea of Sam going away from him and spending time with demons.

“Your brother is meeting with one of those abominations right now.” These words were enough for Dean to jump into protective mode. He immediately took off in the direction of the library. But Castiel’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Don’t! You cannot go in there. He is being told the same thing as I am telling you. In order for you to break this curse, you must spend time with your own kind for a while. In case he were to get back before you, you may write him a letter as well, telling him where you have gone.”Catiel said.

Dean took his hand off of the handle and began rummaging through his drawer for a pen and paper.

“You’re a demon right?” Black eyes being flashed at Sam were his only answer. “Yeah, I thought so. I’m always the black sheep, it would make sense that I’m the one that would become part demon.” Sam said, feeling heavy hearted.

The demon chuckled and looked back at Sam. “You have been part demon since you were six months old. This is just showing you that side a little earlier than planned. Now stay close, you’re a bit of a legend down here.” Braxton, as he had said his name was, led Sam down windy paths that seemed to resemble an old city in London circa 1800's.

“Strange look down here. I was expecting more, I don’t know, like ...?”

“Fire and Brimstone? Yeah, the king down here is more, boring torture than the flaming kind. Don’t get me wrong, he’s still about ripping some flesh from bone and plucking eyelashes. He just doesn’t have time to oversee all that. He figures that long lines were torture as a human and well, that hasn’t changed. Come on, we’re almost there.”

“So where are all the people? I thought Heaven was supposed to be a great big family meet up kind of thing. It’s really quiet, kind of like a library or something.” Dean muttered as Castiel led Dean down another corridor that opened into a beautiful garden.

“It’s not exactly as humans envision it. Each person has their own Heaven, they are reliving their best memories with their loved ones the way that they remember them. Some people may not remember a memory as fondly as someone else, so this is the solution. There are rules that need to be followed, and our job is to make sure that they are.” Castiel explained.

Dean could tell that the look he was giving the Seraph was not one that he was fond of, but he just couldn’t get the idea that even in Heaven you didn’t get to really see your loved ones again, outside of your head anyway. He realized that he was hoping, if he made it out of here, that he would be able to see his mom and others that he had lost along the way.

Time in Hell works differently than it does on Earth. Sam was concerned at first that his brother would worry. That was probably for the first year, then he stopped caring as much. Not that he didn’t care about Dean, that would never change apparently, but worrying Dean didn’t seem like such a problem. Sam was aware that somewhere around the five year mark in Hell, that his eyes would shift color when he was angry. The little shit running Hell always seemed to get this reaction from him. According to Leon, the new guy after Braxton, who had irritated him one too many times and been dealt with, Crowley has that effect on everyone he meets. Sam began to respect him more though after having seen what the King of Hell had to deal with.

It had been ten years Hell time or had it been ten months Earth time, who knew how long it had been for Dean. If they were right, he had been taken to heaven and no one in hell knew how time worked up there. It was like being back on Earth kick started Sam’s worry about pissing Dean off again.

He went straight to Dean’s room. He wasn’t there, but there was a note that was similar to the one that Sam remembered writing to his brother. He sat on Dean’s bed and read the letter. As it turns out, his brother had been taken by the Angels to learn the ways of the feathered. He’d just have to wait until his brother returned, whenever that might be.

Dean had learned a lot from Castiel. He was a warrior who led a Garrison of other angels, but he was also Dean’s instructor. Things hadn’t been as black and white as Dean imagined when his mom had told him about angels all those years ago. There was so much going on that Dean lost track of time.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been gone when he arrived back at the bunker. Flying was easier than he thought it would be, even if it was still kind of jarring. He appeared in his room just as someone was leaving. Dean would recognize that figure anywhere. It was his little brother after all. “Sam?” Dean called out only to be ignored. Instead The figure turned and flashed black eyes, then disappeared.

Sam didn’t teleport far, just to his room. Was that Dean? He was glowing! Sam had learned that demons and Angels could only be in the same rooms if they really wanted to because the Angels have to turn down their light so to speak. Either Dean didn’t know that it would hurt Sam or he didn’t care. He refused to believe that it was the second one. He yelled to his brother that his grace was too bright, but he was here and that they needed to talk.

Dean felt like an idiot. That was something that Castiel had taught him. Humans and especially Demons were susceptible to Angel’s true voices and that their grace could burn a Demon out by simply being near them. He hoped that he hadn’t hurt his brother too badly, but it sounded like it was merely uncomfortable. “I’ve dimmed my bulbs baby brother, come on in.” Dean opened the door to find his brother still looking down at the floor. He could see a hazy bit of smoke that seemed to be trailing Sam. This worried him, he knew that was a sign of being a demon. Angels could see the true face of actual demons, but this wasn’t promising. The fact that he could still see Sammy’s face and not some tortured hell creature; was a little more reassuring.

“Dean!” Sam had really missed his brother. All the ‘teachings’ of hell couldn’t rid him of his yearning either. He still wanted Dean, and the freedom that being with demons had given him caused his strict hold that he kept himself under to falter for a bit, just long enough to embrace Dean.

Dean for his part didn’t even react to the smell of sulphur. He was honestly expecting worse when he came home. The Angel’s had focused on what kind of abomination Sam really was, but they hadn’t been able to tarnish him in Dean’s mind. Angel’s were kinky little bastards that leaned heavily on torture if they didn’t get what they wanted. He had seen a lot in his time in Heaven. It only made him miss his brother more.

Dean sank into the embrace that Sam encircled him with. Barely noticing the fact that he wouldn’t have done so in the past. He learned a very important fact while he was with the other Angels. He was destined to share a Heaven with Sam. And that only happened with soul mates. The way the spell had been worded confused Dean until he knew this little tidbit.

If Sam and Dean shared a Heaven, then they were soul mates and it wasn’t wrong for him to want his soul mate. After he was told that they would be sharing heaven, he forced himself to ask the hard questions. Castiel had been forthcoming with information, even if he had seemed to have a stick up his ass most of the time.

“Most people believe that certain things are wrong ‘according to the bible,’ but Dean the bible was written by man. Our father hasn’t been around for a very long time and very few know what he even looks like. Angels are indifferent to sexual orientation and during many periods of time incest was something that was encouraged to keep blood lines pure. Even if there is no chance of procreation between you and Sam, you share a Heaven. That means that father meant for you two to be together.” These words had shaped Dean’s thoughts nearly the whole time he was away. He just had to figure out a way to talk to Sam about it.

“Sam we need to talk about some things. I know how to break the curse, but I’m not sure how you are going to feel about it.” Dean said, hesitantly. He knew he had to make a move fast and not give enough time to his brother to weigh the pros and cons of it. He knew his brother tended to overthink things.

At these words, Sam lost the good feelings that the hug had enveloped him with. He stepped back to look up at Dean. “Okay, can we sit down to talk or is it something that you prefer to say while standing in the doorway?”

Dean took a step back to let Sam in. It would probably be better to talk about this in his room, that way if things went the way that he wanted them to, they would have a bed and not end up on the map table or something equally as uncomfortable.

“Alright, so what did you learn that has you so convinced that you know how to break it? Even the king of hell didn’t have a clue. Although, he had an interesting theory based on the words in the spell.” Sam sat down in the chair at Dean’s desk, leaving the bed to Dean.

“Well, it actually has to do with the wording of the second half of the spell, and the fact that we share a Heaven. Turns out that the only way you share a Heaven with someone is if they are your soulmate, and the spell mentions souls and mates and well, I think that we are meant to be together.”

Dean looked up at his brother to get a skeptical look. “Don’t look at me like that Sam. The Angels say the same thing, but that isn’t the only place that this is coming from. I’ve wanted you for as long as I can remember, definitely longer than was decent.”

Dean stood up and began pacing while he talked and his wings twitched involuntarily. Sam stood and placed his hand on his shoulder. “That’s what Crowley thought too. I thought he was just a little too into you for it to be true. I’m not gonna lie, I’ve thought the same thing for a while. We’ve always needed each other just a little too much to be normal. I mean, umph.” Sam’s words were cut off by Dean’s lips pressing onto his and hands running down the outer rim of his leathery wings.

“Dean, they’re a symbol of hell, please don’t touch them.” Sam almost whined.

“Hush, they’re a part of you, I don’t care what they represent. There isn’t a part of you that I don’t want to touch tonight. I’m back, you’re here and we are going to make it through this.” Sam shivered once again as Dean ran his hands down the wings.

In response Sam brought his fingers up threading them through the feathers that were quivering behind his brother’s shoulders.

“They’re so soft.” Sam didn’t seem to realize he was speaking out loud, so Dean continued his mission of getting his little brother out of his pants. Shirts weren’t really a thing that they dealt with right now, in fact it would probably be weird to go back to wearing one all the time.

“Come on Sammy, let me show you what else they are good for.” Dean guided Sam onto his stomach on the bed and Sam stretched his wings out over the edges. Dean kissed the sockets where the bat-like wings met his brother’s shoulder blades. “So good for me Sammy. Just relax and I’ll take care of you.”

Dean reached his arm under his wings and massaged the oil glands at the bottom to coat his fingers in wing oil. Usually this would be used to groom the wings, but he had a better idea of what it should be used for. He ran his oiled fingers down Sam’s back, causing a shiver to run down his brother’s spine. He followed the path his fingers took with a trail of kisses. Demon wings probably shouldn’t quiver, but there was no other word that Dean could think of to describe them.

Using the oil as lube, Dean began working his fingers into Sam’s ass. Smoothing his other hand down Sam’s back to soothe and relax him, Dean knew that there was also a numbing sensation with the oil. Not that he had taken personal time while he was in Heaven or anything, but a man has needs and one of those is the need for release. He was afraid to pulse his grace, even though that would have caused his brother to immediately be ready. He wanted to experience their first time together in its entirety.

After several minutes, and Sam’s squirming and begging, Dean lifted himself above Sam’s back and lined up at his entrance. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but if this isn’t what breaks the spell then I still don’t regret it. I just wanted to let you know.” The response from Sam was only a moan as Dean bottomed out in his brother. Between the oil and the sweat, they were both slipping and sliding together. They just fit together like it was meant to be. Too bad neither of them would ever stoop to saying that out loud. Reaching climax was when Dean believed that they would break the spell. That was when their souls would be the closest they could be to each other.

“I’m close Dean! Come with me?” Sam’s voice was thin and airy. Dean would have known from that alone that his brother was close, even without the declaration.

“Yeah Sammy, I’m there. Just let go.” With that, Dean reached down and pulled Sam’s hair. It was something he had thought about doing so many times that he wasn’t going to lose what could be his only chance at doing it. He might have given Sam hell about his hair, but that was because secretly Dean loved it. The lights flashed from Dean exerting his grace, then there was another explosion.

Dean opened his eyes and looked down at his brother's unmarred skin, there were no longer wings protruding from it. He ran his fingers over the skin and leaned down to kiss Sam’s shoulder. He had to let him know that he still wanted this. Carefully pulling out and getting up off Sam, Dean reached for a towel that was on a rack in the room.

He wasn’t the kind of lover to leave a mess on his partner, even if he couldn’t do anything about the one in them. Sam rolled over and looked up into Dean’s eyes. There was a moment that Dean was afraid that Sam would get up and leave and he wasn’t really sure what he would have done if that were the case. Instead Sam smiled up at his brother and lifted his arm to encircle Dean’s neck, “don’t leave me hanging big brother, I need after sex cuddles.”

“I don’t cuddle,” Dean mumbled as he climbed into his bed held close by Sam and never wanting to move.

Outside the door two beings disappeared after having watched the brothers. They reappeared out in a field in the middle of Kansas. “Fine, maybe I have been out of touch with humanity too long. I honestly didn’t think that it would be that easy.” One of them said.

“Don’t take it personal feathers, there was a while there I didn’t think the morons would cooperate. Their codependency would have kept them out of our hair, but now it’s solidified.”, the other one said.

“Crowley, don’t call me feathers!” The demon in question huffed out a laugh at the put out look on Castiel’s face.

“Fine Castiel, next time you want to do an experiment I’m in. This was fun.” Then the demon was gone, leaving the Angel wondering if it was such a good idea playing with his father’s creations. No matter whether it was right or not, it had been fun.


End file.
